The Witch's Blessing
by mantisbelle
Summary: Salem knows that she isn't the only one that feels lonely living on the edges of humanity. Hazel mourns for a life that he once had, and she's willing to give him a chance to get what he needs- so long as he's willing to fulfill a promise for her.


Salem hummed quietly as she watched countless numbers of grimm emerge from the pools of black ichor that dotted the landscape that stretched below her castle. The monsters would rise, and when they were ready she would send them off to destroy whatever was unfortunate enough to cross their paths.

Most of the beasts wouldn't return.

That was okay. It wasn't something that bothered her.

Grimm were pawns- _toys_. Mindless soldiers that couldn't talk back to her. They were meant for one thing and one thing alone, and Salem was sure that she would never stop appreciating them for that. The creatures meant that as long as she kept her covenants with the god of Darkness that had been so kind to make her who she was, she would always be able to look after her favored fighters.

They were warriors. Foot soldiers that were much more powerful than anyone would have ever suspected. They had nearly unknown levels of strength and were unapologetic about using it.

One by one, she had hand selected them to serve her as her inner circle and her most loyal subjects.

Watts had been the first of her minions to come with her. He had come with conquering in mind. Salem had been glad to agree to the man's terms. Watts was strong in his own way- not necessarily in battle, but in intellect he was perhaps unmatched. His gifts would be forever useful to her. Every leader needed a brilliant strategist, after all.

The second had been her dear Tyrian. Salem had found him amongst the wreckage of a war-torn village out in Vacuo and had offered him a way to be so much better than anyone would have ever expected for him to be. The man had laughed when he'd accepted. Salem was glad to keep him close- he was a loyal attack dog that needed a leash. Salem was willing to hold it, and in exchange she'd won the man's undying loyalty.

Of Salem's strongest men, Hazel had been last. She'd felt bad for him when she met him. He'd been framed for a crime that he hadn't committed- he'd lost a wife. A child. A home. He'd needed a way away from home and didn't seem to have any qualms of smashing in heads along the way if it meant that he got what he needed. Salem had offered him a chance at a new life, and Hazel had begrudgingly accepted. His greatest value had been in pure strength. 

Salem valued all of them highly. She worried for them.

It was late. The men had gone to bed already, as far as Salem knew. She found little use for rest in the same way that the others needed. Centuries of life and being less than entirely human had changed her needs. No longer did she need to rest, or do most things.

It was a lonely existence, but Salem supposed that was a good thing. No need for rest meant that she was able to remain ever vigilant. She could always be watching and creating, always strategizing to ensure that her monsters went exactly where they were meant to be.

The loneliness for the time was a trade that she had been willing to make, regardless of the fact that it made nights like these too long.

She spent a lot of time alone once the moon rose over the world of Remnant. The grimm weren't sentient enough for conversation- not even the Seers which would respond to her in clicking sounds.

Once she'd had someone that she could stay up with and speak to at any time of day, but that had long since ended. Sometimes Salem mourned for that loss.

Salem crossed one leg over the other as she watched a Deathstalker emerge from one of the pools of black water. It paused, shaking the remaining ichor off of its carapace and revealing the shining gold of its sting for the first time.

Salem had started making them when she'd first come into contact with Tyrian.

It had made him laugh and made a smile stretch across his face the first time he'd seen the new grimm.

Salem had always liked his laugh. It meant that he was at the very least content with the life that he was living with her there on the edge of the world, cut off from his fellow man. His laughter was assured loyalty.

The woman drifted from thought to thought, watching the grimm arrive and finding herself almost completely unaware of anything else. If something was wrong or she was needed, one of the Seers would come for her, clicking as it approached.

A door opened on the other side of the room, and Salem sighed. She only turned her head enough so that she would be able to see who her visitor was out of her peripheral vision. They were too quiet to be one of the grimm or Tyrian.

Salem quickly realized that her visitor was also much too big to be Watts.

That left only one candidate.

"Hazel." Salem turned her head so that she looked out the window again. Her voice was kept level. The man rarely gave her reason to be upset- Hazel was obedient and strong. His quietness was a boon. His determination was a bigger one.

"Salem." Hazel greeted her as he stepped into the room. She waved a hand towards one of the spare seats in the room, signaling to him that he was welcome. The man walked towards her wordlessly and chose a chair which he lifted with one arm. It was something that none of the others would be able to do. Carefully, the large man set the chair down next to her before seating himself.

Normally, he wouldn't come to her late at night like this. Hazel typically was able to sleep through the nights without any sort of trouble, but sometimes he would come to give her company instead of sleeping through the night or reading.

"Is there a reason that you're here?" Salem asked, her voice a little bit far away. "This isn't like you."

"Couldn't sleep." Hazel answered as he leaned back into his seat slightly. "How are things?"

Salem watched another grimm emerge. This one was large, an ursa pulling itself up out of a pond and shaking itself off before stretching out on its hind legs. "A pair of Strix have been killed in Solitas, near Mantle." She kept her eyes glued to the new grimm the entire time. "Fifteen Beowulves outside of Vale." A wave that felt like a chill rushed over her. "The forces in Anima are getting stronger and another village in Vacuo has been levelled."

She didn't know how many times she'd given status reports like these to her minions. Normally come late night, there wasn't much for her to talk about with them. Ozpin always liked to react to her instead of acting independently, and so unless Salem was taking some sort of action, there usually was nothing to talk about.

If she was taking direct action, it meant that she was alone.

Tyrian would be sent off to hunt and track. Watts would be in contact with their informants. Hazel would always be the one that she kept closest to her- if only because he tended to be more experienced than the others were. He was stronger than Tyrian, but her dear assassin made up for it in speed. He wasn't as intellectual as Watts, but he made up for it in the ability to act diplomatically.

Hazel had always been impossibly useful to her.

And now, she never minded when he came to her side.

In response to Salem's explanation of what was going on, Hazel only grunted and crossed one leg over the other. He also crossed his arms over his chest. Salem supposed that he was making himself comfortable for what was going to be a long night ahead for the two of them.

"Has there been any news regarding Ozpin?" Hazel asked. "Or the relics."

"Still nothing." Salem admitted, a little frustrated. "We aren't going to get anything done without a maiden's loyalty, you know that."

Hazel blinked and nodded.

"Is there a reason that you're up?" Salem broke through the quiet, knowing full well that Hazel wasn't going to say or do anything unless she prompted him to first. It was just how he tended to be, not that she minded it at all. "I would have thought that you were asleep."

"Just a lot on my mind." Hazel answered, his voice low and craggy as ever. Salem had always liked the sound of his voice- in some way, it reminded her of the monsters that she used as soldiers. There was something _primal_ about it that she could never stop enjoying about it. That was how Hazel was- he was rough around the edges and gruff, but ultimately nobody minded his presence.

"Memories?"

Hazel nodded. Salem doubted that he was going to go any further than that. Salem had no reason to doubt the man, and she didn't mind if he didn't tell her about his life before coming to her. Unless her servants did something wrong, she never had reason to prompt them for more information than was strictly needed.

"Yes." Hazel answered. "Just thinking of home."

 _Ah, so that's what it was_ , Salem thought to herself. There were few topics that were harder to breach than home when it came to her servants. It wasn't as though there wasn't a reason for that. For many of them, home was a thing that could only be thought of with absolute bitterness.

Watts held nothing but contempt and anger in his heart when it came to home. He'd been thrown out for reasons which weren't fair to him.

Tyrian's feelings towards it were confusing- the one time that Salem had managed to get him talking about his home, it had strayed between confused and avoidant. He'd break into long rambling rants that never got anywhere.

She'd never gotten a word about it from Hazel before, and now that it was on the table as something that the two of them could talk about, Salem was almost afraid to know what it was that he felt about such things.

There was a reason that she didn't breach such topics. The last thing she wanted was to accidentally alienate the man and drive him away from her.

But if anything, it explained why she now had company in the room that she considered her quarters. An office perhaps.

"I'm terribly sorry." Salem said, not wanting to risk losing the comfortable atmosphere in the room. "I'm sure that it pains you."

"Yes." Hazel answered. "Very much."

There was that quiet again. That avoidance that said that neither of them were going to say anything unless they had to. There was some part of her that wished that she could ask questions- maybe what Hazel needed that night was to be able to talk to someone about what was going on in his own head.

But Salem knew that she wasn't the best ear that he could find. She'd never felt as though she truly had a home, for as long as she had been alive. She'd been alive for centuries, she'd lived through many a war and watched kingdoms both rise and fall.

Never had she truly had a home. She had a castle in a wasteland, but it felt more like a base of operations than it did anything else. She had no family that she could speak of, and speaking of gods as family made things uncomfortable. It was something that Hazel could never relate to. There was only person alive that could relate, and it was best that Salem kept a lot of distance between the two of them.

Salem picked up a hand and reached over to let it rest on Hazel's shoulder in an offer of silent comfort.

Hazel didn't move to get out from under her touch. He just rested there and seemed to be content to just be there with that momentary contact. Salem supposed that Hazel may have missed being close to people in any meaningful way. The closest that he had to a real relationship with Watts or Tyrian was a testy friendship of sorts- if it could even be called that.

"Do you think you'll be alright?" Salem asked the man, lifting her hand up so that she could pull it away. "I know it gets hard on all of you being here."

"Yes." Hazel answered. "I just have to wait for this to pass."

That was odd, was the first thing that Salem thought. Normally Hazel wasn't the kind of person to let anything stop him- if he ran into some sort of problem, he would always power through it would always come out stronger on the other end for it.

It was a gift that few possessed.

Because of that, to see Hazel stop for any sort of obstacle was worrying. It left Salem wondering what unique sort of hurt he carried on his shoulders that he was so afraid to deal with.

Hazel was a fascinating man, indeed.

"I'll have you know that this does nothing to color my opinion of you." Salem said, finally resting her hand down in her lap and making herself comfortable once again. "You are one of the strongest men I've ever met." Salem had to pause, thinking that over. She'd seen thousands of strong Huntsmen. She had once rubbed shoulders with Ozpin regularly.

Even still, she considered Hazel highly for his strength.

"Thank you." Hazel answered, his voice as gruff and quiet as ever. It was the smallest praise that Salem was able to offer to him, and she didn't expect for Hazel to say anything about it. That didn't mean that she didn't want to offer it to him.

"You know that if you want to talk about these things, I am willing to lend an ear." Salem said, quietly. "I know being cut off from your fellow man must get lonely."

"It does." Hazel answered, his voice just as far away as hers was. Salem had to remind herself that Hazel was was different from Watts and Tyrian- Hazel had once had much more than either of them ever had. Watts had his homeland and was run out of it for his own ambitions. Tyrian had always drifted.

That wasn't the case when it came to Hazel.

"Hazel?"

The man hummed and looked over at him with one of his eyes that matched his name. He was watching her, Salem knew. He wouldn't dare do anything to her. He was loyal enough that Salem knew she could trust him. Hazel had never given her any reason to doubt him, even for a second.

"Would you give me permission to go back to Mistral?" Hazel asked her, his voice entirely too level. "I have things I want to do there."

That was actually enough that it made her turn her head so that she could look over at Hazel directly. He didn't look at her, and Salem figured that was probably for the better. He looked too tense, and there was a certain sort of anger that ran through him as an undercurrent.

Salem could practically feel it _radiating_ off of him the entire time.

"Mistral." Salem answered. "Is there any reason for this request?"

"Yes."

Salem watched Hazel's expression, searching for anything that could have told her what he was thinking. What he wanted to do. If there was something in particular that he wanted to go ahead and do. There had to be _something_ , and Salem couldn't help the concern that told him whatever he ended up doing was something that would be of some major concern to her.

If he went off on a warpath in search of something and ended up getting caught or thrown into prison for it, she was sure that she'd never get him back. Hazel was already a wanted man. Salem didn't want to lose someone as loyal as he was, especially not over some sort of personal matter.

"I may be willing to give you permission to go to Mistral if you let me know that I can trust you if you go." Salem began, looking out onto the landscape below as she tried to look for anything that could have helped the two of them. She doubted that anything would arise. In the end, everything that she needed then was for Hazel to speak up and give her something to work with. To give her any sort of promise that she wouldn't have to worry too much. "I don't want to lose a loyal fighter over something like revenge."

Hazel grunted, and she saw him lean back in his seat slightly and uncross his legs as he made himself a little more comfortable. There it was again, that anger threatening to seep out of him and give her something to worry about. That was Hazel, though. He was nothing but rage most of the time, but he was easily followed and controlled.

Most of the time, at least.

"Well?"

"I wanted to go back." Hazel explained. "Connect with some old friends who might be able to get us some help." He blinked. Salem suspected that she knew exactly who those old friends that were going to be.

She'd first found the man in Mistral, with his arms a little too deep in something that he didn't quite belong in.

There wasn't a thing to make her doubt for a second that Hazel had friends in the underground there. The criminals, thieves, and murderers that kept things in Mistral so interesting. If he wanted to get into contact with them, then he was going to do that. What happened after that was a big question that wasn't going to be so easily answered.

"And why would you want to connect with these friends?" Salem asked, her eyes training on Hazel's. "I need to know that your loyalty will not waver with you in Mistral."

"I have no reason to leave." Hazel grumbled. "I simply look to overcome an obstacle."

"By powering through it, no doubt." Salem said, her voice quiet. She raised a hand in a gesture that Hazel would surely be able to recognize as one of permission. "I'll let you go to Mistral, Hazel, but if you do I need you to be doing some work for me."

"Of course."

Salem let out a heavy sigh, knowing that she wasn't going to be able to get by so easily with these things. She had to give Hazel work to do, or else she was going to have to worry about whether or not he was going to be coming back.

"As you know, our hunt for the Maidens is well underway." Salem began, pondering whether or not there was going to be a good way to make this particular request. "While knowing where the Maidens are will be important, I need you to help me find a suitable candidate to become our maiden."

Hazel grunted in affirmation, accepting the task that she'd handed off to him. That was more than enough for her. Hazel would surely return to her with useful information and valuable help. This was one of the things that she was sure she could trust Hazel with and not doubt him for a second.

"Hazel," Salem began, thinking as she watched a stream of nevermores emerge from one of the pools that dotted the landscape ahead of her. "Do be sure to make sure that you bring whoever you find to me."

"Salem?"

"I would prefer to see my candidate face to face before making a final decision or a recruitment." She watched Hazel closely, knowing that the red in her eyes had flared for just a moment. "I'm sure you understand."

Hazel nodded, and moved so that he could stand up. Salem figured that meant that once he was excused, Hazel was going to head off to his quarters so that he could prepare for the journey ahead. There was an eagerness to that which Salem was a little worried about, but she knew better than to doubt Hazel on these sorts of things.

He was loyal. He would be back with more than one possible candidate if Salem's predictions were correct.

"Is there anything else?" Hazel asked now, his voice as ragged as ever and so deep that it reminded her of a grimm's growl. "Or should I go."

"That's all." Salem said, deciding to rise from her seat as well. When she moved, her motions were much more fluid than Hazel's were. She laced her hands together in front of her and faced him directly.

Their eyes met. Salem trusted him.

"I'll go prepare to leave," Hazel said, moving to take the first two steps away from her. "I'll be sure to make it a quick trip."

"I have no reason to doubt that you'll return to me in a timely fashion with a candidate in mind." Salem responded. She took two steps forward towards Hazel and reached up with one hand to cup his cheek gently before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to it.

Hazel didn't react, just nodded. When Salem pulled away from him, she saw that a small red mark on his cheek glowed brightly before fading away into nothingness.

"Consider it a blessing, Hazel." She pulled her hand away. "Nothing shall come to harm you on this trip. You have my promise."

"Thank you, Salem."

Salem stepped away from Hazel, and just watched as he turned to leave the room and her behind.

She would see dear Hazel again, in due time.

He'd never let her down before, after all.


End file.
